


Show

by Nemesis (ThetaSigma), ThetaSigma



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Crossdressing, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 16:11:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6431320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThetaSigma/pseuds/Nemesis, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThetaSigma/pseuds/ThetaSigma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fin convinces John to go out and do a drag show. It absolutely does not go as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Show

John wasn’t sure how Fin had talked him into this, but he had. It might have had something to do with Fin asking after he had blown John’s mind completely in a long, slow, tortuous love-making session that had fried his brain and all of his higher reasoning with it.

John dressed up, slipping the stockings on, his leather mini-skirt already on. He slid the knee-high leather books on and dusted his chest with body glitter, then turned his attention to his makeup. 

“I am firmly _not_ wearing false breasts for this, Fin, no matter what everyone else is doing.”

Fin had talked him into participating in a drag show.

“How about a wig?” Fin asked cheekily, dressing up himself. He was wearing what John thought of as his ‘whipping outfit’, this time with a shirt on. Tight jeans and that sexy leather jacket.

“I thought you liked my hair,” John said, putting lipstick on carefully.

“Mmm, I do. You look _so fucking sexy_ , babe,” Fin said. He waited for John to finish with the lipstick, then ran a hand under John’s skirt and squeezed his ass.

“You sure you wanna go do this instead of staying at home and fucking each other silly?” John asked.

“Mmmhmmm,” Fin said. “We can fuck each other silly _after_ this. I wanna take you out, see others staring at you in that _fucking hot_ get-up and get off on knowing only I get to fuck your ass.”

John turned around and looped his arms around Fin’s neck. “I only want you, my love.”

Fin leaned forward to press a kiss to John’s lips, but John leaned back to avoid it. “Uh-uh. Don’t mess up my lipstick.”

Fin laughed and sucked on John’s neck instead. John gasped. “Fin! I’d rather _not_ walk through the streets of New York in a leather mini-skirt with an _extremely_ obvious erection.”

“Mmm. Okay, babe,” Fin said, leaving John’s neck alone. He glanced down and grinned. John was hard, his erection tenting the mini-skirt, and John scowled at him.

“I am not leaving this apartment until it’s less obvious I am turned on.”

“Imagine Elliot having sex with the Captain, always kills my erection,” Fin suggested.

“I may never get it up again,” John complained.

“There is that downside,” Fin said cheerfully. “Luckily, you’re so fucking sexy, I never have to worry about _that_.”

“Mmm,” John said. “I keep looking at you in that outfit, and that image might not be enough. Where’s that wig you were talking about?”

“I thought you didn’t wanna hide your hair.”

“Hell, I’ll take anything that cloaks my identity a bit,” John said, slipping the black wig on and carefully arranging it. “How do I look?”

“Delectable.”

*** 

Fin was sitting in the club, nursing a beer, waiting for it to be John’s turn on the stage. He had watched the show with limited interest – it turned out he had liked drag when _John_ did it. Some of the guys had really gone all out, and looked good, but for some reason, Fin’s interest in the whole thing was about _John_ in women’s clothes, especially with the role play.

Fin had the sneaking suspicion that quite a few – maybe most – people around him were on things a lot stronger than alcohol, but he didn’t say or do anything about it. He wasn’t here as a cop tonight – he’d even left his badge at home. He had his gun, of course, just in case he had to protect John’s honor (and anyway, he felt naked without it on the streets of New York), and of course his license to carry in his wallet.

John sauntered onto the stage, and Fin sat up in interest.

The doors banged open and cops flooded in, screaming, “NYPD! This is a raid! No one leaves!”

Fin immediately tried to go over to John, but there were patrons and officers in his way. Fin tried pushing his way through the crowd, but a cop stopped him. “You’re not going anywhere,” the officer said.

“I’m just trying to get to my friend, inside the club,” Fin said. “I’m not trying to leave, I promise.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” the cop repeated. He frisked Fin, who damned himself for not bringing his badge with him (but why would he? It certainly would’ve been incongruous and would’ve killed the mood here) and sighed as the cop found the gun on his hip. Black guy with a gun, this was gonna go badly until he could prove he was a cop.

“What have we here?” the cop said, pulling out Fin’s gun. “I’m sure this isn’t registered. You fuckers never bother with that.”

Fin knew _exactly_ what the cop meant by that, but he didn’t rise to the bait. “It’s registered,” he said evenly, “and I have my license to carry in my wallet. I’m a cop, too. Detective Odafin Tutuola. Badge number 3198.”

“And this so-called badge of yours?”

“Left it at home.”

“You think I’m buying that load of horseshit? You’re under arrest.”

Fin said quietly so he wouldn’t be overheard, “Color of the day is maroon.”

“Lucky guess,” the cop snarled, “or you’ve got a dirty cop on your payroll. You’re coming in, punk. You have the right to remain silent…” He turned Fin around roughly and cuffed him, hauling him outside. Fin wondered how John was doing.

*** 

John had jumped the fuck off the stage when the cops had burst in but had made no effort to escape, obviously. A cop came up to him and asked, “Name?”

“Why should I provide that information? I’m just enjoying my night. There’s no reason for me to give you that,” John protested.

“Let me put it this way. You provide your name or we’re hauling you in.”

“That’s illegal and a complete violation of my civil liberties!”

“You think I’m joking? Let’s go! Everyone here is getting pulled in.”

“What _for_?”

“You’re honestly telling me you missed all the drugs?” the cop scoffed. “Let’s go, _babe_ ,” he said mockingly, clearly having read the tattoo on John’s arm. “You’re under arrest.”

“Listen, you’re making a mistake,” John said quietly. “I’m a cop, too. Detective John Munch. Badge number 1122.” He’d always liked that it was the date of the Kennedy assassination.

“And I’m the Queen of England. No cop would be caught dead here, especially in _that_ get up. Come along, Princess.”

He cuffed John’s hands and said, “Don’t enjoy this _too_ much, _babe_.”

John sighed and wondered what was going on with Fin.

He had a very uncomfortable ride to the local precinct in the back of a wagon. Fin wasn’t there; John was with a bunch of drag queens. They were complaining vociferously about their treatment – which had been unfair, most of it transphobic and racist, if the guy was black. John kept his silence. He didn’t expect to be detained for long – he had his driver’s license, at least, and as soon as they fingerprinted him for the arrest, it would pop up that he _was_ a cop. He got thrown into a holding cell, alone, and ten minutes later, the gate slid open. 

“You’ll like your new buddy,” the cop said. “ _He_ claims he’s a cop, too.” 

He shoved Fin in, and John said irritably, “He _is_. He’s my partner.”

“I’m sure,” the officer said. “Come up with a better lie for arraignment. Have a good night, ladies.”

John frowned and threw his wig across the cell. “Hey!” he shouted. “Aren’t you at least gonna fingerprint us tonight?”

“Time enough for that in the morning. We got over a hundred people to process, and frankly, two people who are lying about being cops are real low on our list.”

“Don’t we at least get our phone call?” Fin asked. “How ‘bout we compromise, and make one total?”

The cop sighed heavily. “Make it quick. Who are you calling?”

“Captain Don Cragen, since you won’t believe us _or_ run our damn prints.”

*** 

Fin returned to the cell with minutes, fuming. “Apparently, I can’t be trusted to make a phone call,” he snarled. “That racist motherfucker made it, saying Captain Cragen was far too important a person to be bothered by the likes of me. Bastard refused to even give Cragen our _names_ at first!”

“Calm down, Fin. At least _you’re_ not in a leather mini-skirt.”

Fin laughed shakily. “Yeah. Sorry about that, babe. I didn’t think, _obviously_ , that _this_ would happen.”

John rested his head on Fin’s shoulder. “I suppose we’re stuck here for the rest of the night.”

“Unless Cragen comes by,” Fin said. “That racist fuck did all he could to talk Cragen out of it.”

*** 

John was sleeping deeply on Fin’s shoulder, Fin rubbing his arm. Fin was too wired to sleep, pissed as fuck about his treatment.

He heard a throat being cleared and looked up. Cragen was standing on the other side of the bars, looking at them.

“You want to explain to me why two of my detectives got arrested, Fin?” he asked. “We can let John sleep for the moment.”

“Cap, we went… out. I sure as fuck didn’t know there’d be a raid, and neither of us thought to bring our badges for a night out. From what I can tell, they hauled everyone in.”

“Your arrest record says you were carrying and that you resisted arrest.”

“I had my gun, of course. I don’t leave the apartment without it, especially with John lookin’ like _that_. And I _didn’t_ resist. I told that racist pig I was a cop. Motherfucker didn’t believe me, even with my goddamn badge number.”

Cragen sighed deeply. “You wanna wake your boyfriend up?”

Fin shook John awake, who mumbled a protest, then flushed a very dark red when he saw Cragen. “Oh God,” he mumbled into Fin’s shoulder.

“I’m not even going to _ask why_ you’re in that outlandish get-up,” Cragen said wearily. “I thought that time I sent you two undercover in that kinky sex club you picked that just for that assignment, but I guess not – but I absolutely _do not_ want to know. What I _do_ want to know, John, is why _your_ arrest record shows you resisted arrest.”

“Look, they asked for my name before they said they were arresting me. I said no way, they told me they’d arrest me if I didn’t give it, and I pointed out that’s illegal. They then told me they _were_ arresting me, at which point I told them my name _and_ gave them my badge number. Made no difference, they hauled me in anyway. We’ve been sitting here since, waiting for them to run our prints.”

Cragen sighed very deeply again and said, “Obviously, I’m going to take care of this, but stay away from there in the future.”

“No worries, Captain, I’m never leaving the apartment again,” John said, still fairly red. “I’m guessing this isn’t going to die down for a while.”

Cragen raised an eyebrow. “Cop hauled in looking like that? You’re gonna be getting some awful funny looks for a long time, John. Good thing you and Fin were already out.” He rubbed his face. “I’ll put out you two were undercover there, but you know that won’t stop a lot of wagging tongues.”

John felt guilty doing that to the Captain. “Captain, I’m sorry,” he said softly. “We… we _really_ didn’t know any of this would happen. Just thought it would be fun.”

Cragen nodded. 

“IAB gonna start sniffin’ around?” Fin asked worriedly. 

“If they do, it’s going to be to look into the officers’ behavior tonight, not yours,” Cragen said. “At most you’ll get talked to about your behavior in the club, but no disciplinary action – both of you will likely be drug tested, which I’m assuming will come back clean – and you two _are_ entitled to go out on your time off. I’ll be back in a bit with this sorted out to let you guys out of here.”

*** 

John flopped onto the bed and glanced at the clock. It was nearing dawn. 

Fin looked at him and grinned. “You want to have some fun, babe?”

“I am getting the _fuck_ out of these clothes, Fin, and it’s going to be a long, long, _long_ time before I put on another skirt,” John said. “Even in the privacy of our own apartment. Jesus. Next time, _you_ have a conversation with the Captain in knee-high boots, stockings, a leather mini-skirt, and a shirt that doesn’t cover most of your damn chest. Fuck. I am never leaving this bed.”

“Well, you ain’t gonna get complaints from me about _that_.”

“All your fantasies from now on better involve suits,” John said petulantly, sitting up and tugging off his clothes. “I might consider jeans. That’s it.”

“So I’m guessing Catwoman is out of the question,” Fin teased.

“Catwoman is so far out of the question, the only way it’s happening is if _you_ put on a Catwoman suit.”

“Aww. I’m sorry, babe,” Fin said, pulling John close. “I really am. I know you’re embarrassed.”

“You have no idea.”

“Mmm. How can I make you feel better, babe?”

“Right now, Fin, I just want to be held. No sex, just… hold me and let me sleep. I’m too old to be up this late, and I don’t feel sexy right now, I feel ridiculous.”

“I can hold you,” Fin said. “But you’re sexy, no matter what, and I don’t want you forgetting that, hon. C’mon, let’s get into bed.”

“The sheets are gonna be a glittery mess if I don’t shower first,” John said, yawning deeply.

“Then we’ll toss them,” Fin said. “You need sleep, babe.”

“ _You’ll_ be a glittery mess, too.”

“I’ll live. Get in.”

John settled into the bed and Fin curled around him, pulling him close and holding him. John sighed and snuggled into the hug, drifting off as Fin held him.


End file.
